What You Mean to Me
by Shi-Toyu
Summary: The first time it happened, it was a complete and total accident. Seriously. Bucky hadn't meant to say it. Tony was just being so damn frustrating and stubborn and beautiful. It just sort of slipped out. IronWinter BuckyXTony Get-together fic. Rated for language.


What You Mean to Me

The first time it happened, it was a complete and total accident. Seriously. Bucky hadn't meant to say it. Tony was just being so damn frustrating and stubborn and beautiful. It just sort of slipped out.

"Look, kotyonok, if you would just _listen_ to Stevie for _two seconds_-"

"Woah! Woah, woah, woah! Hold up. What did you just say to me?"

Bucky froze, brain finally catching up to his mouth and realizing that he'd just called _Tony fucking_ _Stark_ 'kitten' in Russian. To his face. The billionaire clearly wasn't happy about it either. His face was a downright thunderstorm of swirling aggression and fury. It was one of the most gorgeous things Bucky had ever set eyes on.

"What? You think just because you use another language I won't notice an insult when I hear one? Well, I've got news for you, Barnes, vaffanculo!"

The genius turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, leaving a stunned Bucky blinking after him. Steve was glancing back and forth between his best friend and where his team mate had stormed off, but Natasha only looked amused as she leaned forward to murmur in Bucky's ear.

"He basically just used Italian to tell you to go fuck yourself…kitten."

Bucky could've sworn she was holding back laughter as she and Barton left the room. Banner sighed and stood from his seat as well.

"I should go after him. No doubt he's gone down to the labs."

Steve looked like he wanted to say something, but Bucky just headed out after the others and shut himself away in his room. He didn't want to deal with anyone, not even Stevie. He'd found himself attracted to Stark within just a few weeks of moving into the tower. At first, he hadn't really known what to do with the emotion, hadn't even know _what_ it was. Once he'd figured it out, he knew he couldn't act on it. Even if Stark wasn't as straight as his playboy lifestyle suggested he wasn't going to give Bucky the time of day.

Stark had everything, literally. He had money, fame, power, women throwing themselves at his feet (and other body parts). He had a gorgeous, fierce woman who stood beside him in anything he did, though Stevie had told him Pepper and Tony hadn't worked out in the relationship sense. If Stark wanted someone to actually _be_ with, he wasn't going to choose Bucky.

Bucky had killed Tony's parents, had killed _Howard_. (At least that was what he'd been told. He didn't actually remember doing it, but apparently there were files somewhere that said he had. In the end, it didn't really matter if he remembered it or not because everybody else knew. Including Tony.) Why in the world would he want anything to do with the guy who killed his parents? He'd been way nicer to Bucky already than the soldier deserved after everything he'd done and all Bucky'd done to repay him was piss him off.

Bucky had to admit, though, Tony Stark was even more attractive than normal when he was angry. It was the way that tanned skin reddened, the way the corners of his mouth pinched and his lips pursed. Those honeyed eyes seemed to spark and, _oh¸_ Bucky just wanted to melt in the face of it all. He'd never really understood what people meant when they said someone was devastatingly beautiful, but he sure as Hell did now. And apparently he also now held the key to setting off that devastating beauty any time he wanted.

He knew what Steve would say, that it was wrong and he shouldn't do that to Tony. (Which was a good point, admittedly, but it wasn't like Bucky was doing a very good job at not pissing the inventor off anyway.) He knew Natasha would tell him to get over himself. She'd done it before, multiple times in fact. Specifically, she'd told him to pull his head out of his oblivious ass, grab Tony by the shoulders, and lay one on him. Bucky was pretty sure that would not only piss Tony off, but also get himself kicked out of the tower. Besides, he'd never been very good at resisting temptation.

What came after was a series of arguments unlike any before seen within the tower. Bucky hadn't really planned for anything to get so out of hand, it was just that Tony seemed able to rile him up every bit as much as he was able to rile up the genius. Things would start out small and just snowball out of control until Bucky and Tony were screaming at each other, hurling Russian and Italian at each other respectively. Bucky loved every second of it, all that passion flying around.

There was just something so exhilarating about finally being able to call Tony the things Bucky had always wanted to call him, all the things Bucky called the genius in the privacy of his own head, in his fantasies. Granted, in his fantasies they were usually in a much different situation, such as Tony spread out across Bucky's sheets like an offering and naked as the day he was born. Even if the genius didn't know, maybe even _because_ the genius didn't know, the sniper found it electrifying each and every time they exchanged 'insults'. It warred with the guilt Bucky felt for causing Tony to feel such anger in the first place, guilt that was only added to when Steve would shoot him those damned, kicked-puppy looks.

"I just don't see why you two can't get along, Bucky! I thought maybe your disagreements would get better the longer you stayed here, but they only seem to be getting worse. I think you'd really like him once you got to know him."

If only Steve knew. But Bucky had no intentions of discussing his questionable sexuality with his defrosted best friend. That really was just not a conversation he wanted to have. Ever. He knew he hadn't felt this way about men back during the war, back when he'd been Bucky Barnes and no one else. He didn't know if it was the Winter Soldier or HYDRA or if Tony Stark was an exception to the rule (like always) and he didn't want to know. He just…was. And that was good enough for him.

It was Clint, surprisingly enough, who actually managed to get him to talk about what was going on. If it could actually be called talking. Bucky knew that Natasha knew, of course, but apparently the archer also spoke Russian just fine. He and Bucky had bonded over a mutual love of rifles and dry humor. The screaming matches between Bucky and Tony had been going on for nearly a month before Clint invited Bucky down to the shooting range to blow off some steam.

"So what's up with the pet names?"

Bucky scowled at him and fired off a few more shots without looking at the target, glancing over only briefly once he was done to confirm they'd all hit dead center. He almost considered denying it at first, but there wasn't much point of that with Clint. He'd find out what he wanted to know either way in the end. He was very similar to Steve in that regard, though the archer tended to favor loud, boisterous tactics than Steve's guilt-tripping puppy look.

"It's the only chance I get to call him those things. He'd never let me do it if he actually knew what they meant."

Clint, bless every fiber of the man's being, didn't even blink at the confirmation that Bucky was gay. Then again, Bucky supposed, he _had_ been raised in a circus. He certainly hadn't been raised with the same social stigmas that Bucky and Steve had faced.

"How do you know?" Clint hopped up on the count that lined the back wall, pulling his feet up and standing to pace back and forth along its edge. "Have you tried it in a language he might actually understand?"

Bucky's scowl only deepened and he shot Clint a glare. The archer completely ignored him in favor of watching his feet as he took each step. His arms were held up and slightly out to each side for balance and Bucky felt the distinct temptation to grab the arm closest to him and pull Clint to the ground. It would serve him right.

"Hey!" Clint piped up excitedly, spinning around to grin at him. "Have you considered learning Italian?"

Bucky snorted, a twisted version of a smirk marring his features.

"Oh yeah, like I've been just dying to know all the things he's been calling me."

He knew he sounded bitter but it was kind of hard not to. He'd spent so long wiped off all emotion that he found it hard to hide the ones he now felt. Clint just let his feet slip off of the edge of the counter to flop down in a seated position.

"Look, I get it, man. You were with HYDRA for ages and then once you got out you were lost and you didn't even know who you were. Everyone was an enemy. It's hard to come back from something like that. Nat faced a lot of the same stuff coming over from the KGB. But we're here for you, you know? And the world isn't such a dark and gloomy place as you might think."

He hopped down finally and crossed back to his place at the range, picking up one of the new handguns Tony had developed for Natasha. Bucky still wasn't sure how Clint managed to get his hands on it without getting skinned alive.

"Now c'mon, stop distracting me so I can get back to work."

Bucky almost felt like rolling his eyes. He didn't even bother bringing up the fact that Clint was the one to start the whole discussion. There really wouldn't be a point. Instead he just picked up a rifle and settled back into his place. He came here to blow off steam, after all.

It wasn't until a few days later that he began noticing a shift in Tony's behavior. It wasn't much, just a second's pause after Bucky hurled yet another pet name his way, moy solnchik, my little sun, before Tony was right back to trading verbal blows. For a heart-stopping moment, Bucky thought he'd been figured out, but Tony made no mention of it, just defended that his 'impulsive, against-orders plan' had saved all of their asses and he'd appreciate a 'thank you' instead of an evisceration.

Less than a week later, Bucky was in the communal kitchen confiscating Clint's leftovers when he sensed a presence behind him. It was Tony, leaning against the door frame like he didn't have a care in the world. He probably could have pulled the look off a lot better if it weren't 3 AM and he didn't look like he'd been run over by a truck. Bruises from the most recent Avengers fight bloomed across one cheek and peeking out from under his tank top. He looked tired, exhausted even, but it didn't seem to phase his trademark grin. Bucky kind of wanted to just wrap him up in his arms and never let go.

"Hey, tesorino, can't sleep?"

Bucky suddenly felt every bit as tired as Tony looked. There wasn't any anger in Tony's tone, but his use of Italian said enough. He felt his shoulders slump as he tossed the box labeled, 'Clint's ONLY! You touch, you die!' onto the counter. He turned only partially to watch the genius.

"Can we not, right now?"

Tony pushed himself away from the door frame and wandered further into the kitchen. He leaned around Bucky to snag the orange juice before heading toward the cabinets. He was silent as he pulled down a glass.

"If you'd like. I just really can't seem to figure this one out, is all. And I'm a genius, you know."

Bucky's eyebrows drew together in confusion as he stared at Tony's turned back.

"What are you talking about?"

The billionaire turned around and cocked one hip against the counter before wincing as he clearly pressed against a bruise and shifted positions. He gestured back and forth between Bucky and himself.

"This whole weird…thing going on between us."

"Our fighting? You do something stupid and I yell at you. What's there to figure out?"

Tony just rolled his eyes.

"I meant more along the lines of how you keep calling me things like 'my little dove' and 'mouse-bear' in the middle of fights and covering it up by saying their insults."

Bucky froze completely, not even a single muscle so much as daring to twitch.

"Who told you?"

Tony shrugged.

"Nobody. I started looking up Russian insults and couldn't find any that matched what you were calling me…so then I looked up what you'd been calling me. Surprise! So, what, this is another way for you to make fun of me?"

Bucky almost said yes, could feel the easy answer on the tip of his tongue. He could pass it off as more animosity and Tony would never have to know. Looking at Tony now, though, with his shoulders bunched up and already curling away from the blow he expected, Bucky just couldn't do it. He refused to hurt Tony any more than he already had.

"No. Not a way to make fun of you. Just a way to be able to say what I wanted to without you getting suspicious."

It was Tony's turn to look confused.

"Suspicious of what?"

"My feelings. For you. I like you."

He wanted to look away, to avoid Tony's gaze, but he also wanted to know what Tony thought of the whole thing. Would he be surprised? There seemed to be very few things that could truly surprise the genius. Tony blinked at him, then blinked again.

"You like me?" Bucky nodded. "As in…'like me' like me?"

Bucky snorted as Tony's nose wrinkled up, a clear sign that he was trying to process what he was hearing and it still wasn't making sense to him.

"Yeah, Stark, I 'like you' like you, if you want to be High School Musical about it."

More nose wrinkling.

"Did you just make a pop culture reference? Am I hallucinating? I knew I should have gone to bed that last time JARVIS told me to…"

Bucky chuckled, his tension bleeding away in the face of Tony's befuddlement. Well, he figured, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Nah, you're not hallucinating. It probably wouldn't be a bad idea for you to get some sleep,though."

He slipped his fingers under Tony's to take the bottle of orange juice from him and put it back in the fridge, closing the door again once it was put away. He'd leave the leftovers on the counter. Either he'd come back and eat them or he could be entertained by Clint's indignation all of tomorrow.

"C'mon, I'll get you to bed and then, if you're alright with it, I'd like to take you on a date. Maybe tomorrow night, if you're free."

Tony let himself be steered out of the room. His confusion lasted until they reached the elevator, where it slowly melted away into a pout.

"That's not fair."

"What's not fair?"

Tony shot him a glare, but there wasn't any real heat behind it. It felt kind of like being glared at by a wet kitten.

"You asking me out. I've wanted to ask you out for _ages_."

Bucky suddenly couldn't contain the grin that was stretching across his face.

"So that's a yes, then?"

Tony rolled his eyes, but knocked shoulders with Bucky none the less.

"Yeah, you big lug, that's a yes. You better treat me to a good time to make up for all that yelling you did."

Bucky wrapped an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and pulled him in close, dropping a kiss into unruly brown hair.

"I will. I have to admit, though, I'm kinda gonna miss the yelling. You're cute when you're mad."

Tony snuggled in closer to his side, his eyelids drooping just a bit and he tipped his head back to grin up at Bucky wickedly.

"Well, if you'd rather go fuck yourself, that's on you. Personally, I'd much prefer you fucked _me._"

A/N: Since it's the only one I did not specify the meaning of in the text, 'tesorino' is an Italian form of sweetheart. It doesn't have an exact translation, but that's the gist of it.


End file.
